Try to hide from my eyes
by Oliver Grey
Summary: This is somewhere after Christine unmasks the Phantom in the 2004 movie. One shot.


Try to hide from my eyes

I was heading for the surface to get our supper. It was becoming a habit, I would gladly add to my everyday life. The first time she stood with me, I was so focused on every detail, I forgot to double the order. The moment I realized my mistake I wanted to drown the chef in his soup for it. Of course, it wasn't his fault! Who cared whose fault it was. Unfortunately, Christine was waiting for me and I wasn't going to waste any time in drowning anybody that night. I had said I would be back in half an hour, so I had to run all the way down to be on time. Surely she would like her supper warm.

That was two weeks ago, and the consequence of my stupidity I put entirely on my back. When Christine saw the table prepared for one, she felt uncomfortable. She almost insisted for me to join her for supper. Almost, for she is a nice, obedient girl, never raising her voice against my commands. I got angry for upsetting her and without much thought declared I could not eat with the mask on my face. A half lie, for I couldn't eat only with that particular mask on. I might of lost my temper, just a little, because she spent some time looking away from me and didn't dare to touch her meal until I insisted she must eat. It wasn't bad at all. I used my time to observe her beloved face and the natural grace of her every movement. I like everything she does, to the most insignificant gesture. I know, I am a fool, but I like it even when she puts her finger in her nose, absolutely sure she is alone. I know she is ashamed of it for one day little Meg almost caught her and later on Christine tried to get rid of the habit by biting the finger every time it started pointing toward her nose. It went for a week and that was when I discovered a man could positively die from laughing. Thank God, she gave up just in time to save my life. From that day I was always ready with a distracting sound, just in case.

Now I give my note to Antoinette, before Christine's lesson and continue to order food for one. She never really eats all of it. I wait for her to fall asleep and quietly empty her plates before retiring for the night. It is a pleasure by itself, to taste her food from where she had left it. I imagine she does it on purpose, leaving food for me, caring for me. Ah, yes, I am a fool.

Tonight I brought her home a little earlier. I couldn't wait more so I made a small fire during her rehearsal, causing the end of it. There was that clumsy dancer in the second row, I decided to combine fun and duty and teach her to work harder. I set her head on fire. The stupid cow began to scream and run around the stage. It actually looked good. It gave me an idea for my opera. A living, dancing torches for the Hell scene would make it very realistic. They threw a bucket of water over her. All she needs to do is wear a wig for a month or two before her hair grows again. A wig. I may offer her one of my own... And everybody saw she could move faster, I suppose I saved her job.

I reached the surface and took the food from Madam. She was looking furiously at me, and if I was to guess, she was displeased by her dancer's temporal baldness. My face was already stone like, right side resembling the mask, down to the smallest detail. I hate to stay like that for a long time cause the twisted muscles to the left, start to spasm with increasing severity. She looked at me, her fury swallowed to the sight of my own irritation. I was on my way back before she summoned the courage to say a word. Hell, I owed her no explanation!

The food smelled wonderfully, even better for my empty stomach. I ate lunch yesterday and after that was busy enough to forget nourishment completely. I entered the main room and saw Christine waiting at the small table. It was clean already, plates and cutlery for two? I sighed internally. Now I had to play angry again, instead of joining her for supper. For she had disobeyed me and that was unacceptable. Stupid facade, stupid Opera Ghost with a damned face of a demon. How I hate this game of fear I need to play with her. Curse her, for steeling my mask! Curse all human curiosity! Its her fault I keep this menacing aura even in my home. Other people, normal people, go home to rest from work, from the crowd, from the nasty world of man. They go to their wives and hide their faces in their warm bodies, to fuck and have nice dreams. I am allowed only anger or indifference.

I stood frowning long enough and finally Christine cleared my part of the table. This time I didn't have to say a single mean word to her. Good. She was standing by the table unsure what to do.

"Take your seat, the food is getting colder."

She waited for me to help her with the chair, and gave me a little smile of gratitude. I wish her smiles are like stalagmites so I can make a collection of them. I keep some beautiful stalagmites in a hall. I will show them to Christine one day. I served the first dish and closed my mouth firmly for it was watering extensively. I sat down and watched Christine emptying the plate to the bottom. Today she had a better appetite which was good. I was serving the main dish when she began to speak.

"I was wondering, Maestro, if I may call You Angel again?"

I finished my work and sat down across her deciding I didn't have to be angry after such a question. May be just a little reserved. I had no intention to state the obvious for how far from an angel I really was.

"Are you mocking me, child?"

"No! No, it was ... only ..."

I lowered my gaze to allow her to continue with her supper. Christine looked down and frowned at her plate.

"You don't like Maestro, dear?"

She put the fork down and gave me a look full of excuses.

"I like it, but... please, don't be angry with me."

"I am listening, Christine."

"I thought you would forgive me, in time, and we could have ... I mean if you don't mind ..."

Again she looked down, her breasts moving fast, partly hidden behind her hair. I would not think of her breasts now. Not now, no, she was trying to speak, I should focus on her words. They are white and bump wonderfully above... Hell! Words! Focus, you freak!

I was getting impatient. What was she talking about, there wasn't anything to forgive. In her manner it could take the whole night to understand her need.

"Christine, explain yourself. I will not yell at you, I swear. What am I to forgive you for?"

Her eyes went to my mask for a second. Aha. I decided to lie. I pointed at it.

"I am not angry about that, not anymore."

"And I can call you Angel again?"

Why was there so much hope in her voice? I don't give a damn how she is calling me as long as she doesn't touch my mask.

"If you insist."

She gave me another little smile, but it quickly disappeared.

"Is there something else?"

"I would very much like to ... you to be my angel again."

It was a blow below the waist, and it hurt a lot. She didn't want to see me anymore. But why? I could feel the mask pressed firmly to my face, yet she couldn't stand to be in my presence. She was right to expect anger after that, but this time I would surprise her. I smiled.

"Are you sure you really want this, Christine?"

Her smile returned. Bloody Hell, she really hated me that much.

"Yes, yes, please, Maestro, I want nothing more."

I continued to smile at her, realizing I could not deny her wish. I had hoped she would become a little fond of me, even love me if she was to hit her head hard someday. Those five times she spend the night here, were the best nights in my life. Every single one a festival of joy and hope. This was going to kill me and at the same time make her happy. And I would do the impossible to make her happy. Ah, my love. I reached across the table and took her hand. Her smile faded naturally at my touch. This one time.

"When do you want me to start."

"Now?"

She kept moving her gaze between my eyes, her face growing worried till I let her go and leaned back in my chair. Calm eyes, calm voice and...

"Finish your supper first."

Her smile didn't return cause I've gone too far. I had never allowed myself to touch her like this before. I should offer her to wash her hands, it may calm her down.

"Angel?"

"Finish your meal first, for Christ sake!"

And I had promised not to yell at her. I stood up against the etiquette and went to prepare the boat. She had some things, she would like to take to the upper world with her, I had to make room for them.

"Maestro?"

She was right behind me.

"Go get your stuff, I will take you to your room. You can pick anything you like..."

She put her hand on my sleeve and I turned around to look at her. My pain carefully hidden behind the stone face. Her eyes unreadable, searching for mine.

"I thought I would sleep here. I thought we would talk."

She wanted me to play angel, here? And I was to hide where? In the lake, may be, like a fish. Or I could fly high above her, right under the cave's ceiling. She definitely thought me a real demon.

"I do not intent to hide from you in my own home. Besides angels do not dwell that deep under ground. You should wait till we reach the surface for the divine presence, my dear."

I turned around to finish my deed and left her there.

"To hide? Why do you want to hide from me? You said you wasn't angry with me and now you want to take me back. I don't understand."

"What is there to understand. You said you wanted your Angel back, the voice, and I am giving it to you. You are not going to see me again, don't worry."

All of a sudden she sat on the ground, stunned and silent. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Why wasn't she happy? She was looking at me, her eyes blank.

"I just wanted my Angel back. My friend, whom I trusted everything in my heart. Who was always ready to say kind words to me. Did I ask for too much?"

I stood before her my eyes shut. Yes, she wanted too much. She wanted me to give up seeing her in my home. To give up every hope for any accidental touch while she was in my presence. To give up the little pleasure of watching her sleeping in my bed.

"Let's go."

"I am going nowhere. Please, answer my question."

She was upset, very upset, I was afraid she would start crying any minute now.

"Close your eyes, Christine, count to ten and your Angel will be back to you."

She began to count and I took a step away from her. Something tugged me and she opened her eyes.

"Where are you going, Angel?"

I was really confused now.

"Away from your eyes. You will hear only my voice, just like before. You said you wanted it more than anything."

"I did no such thing! "

Was I going mad? Probably, for I could still hear her words in my mind. I made her rise from the cold rocky floor and guided her back to the table. Her breasts... forget it. A pair of wings, a long white robe, a twisted face... aaah, forget it.

"What do you want, child?"

She was unwilling or unable to explain herself, I took the lead. One thing at a time for she was still a child, my beautiful love.

"You want to call me Angel, not Maestro. Is that correct, Christine?"

She met my eyes again almost causing me to forget my next question.

"Yes, if you... if it does not offend you."

"No, it doesn't. Now, you want me to behave like before? To talk to you in the chapel? You want me to sing to you again? I am to present myself only as a voice, never seeing me again? "

Christine had nodded her agreement to all questions, but when I finished with the last one she shook her head. I expected her words with excitement and annoyance. Was there a chance I had misunderstood her?

"I want to see you. I like to come here to practice and to develop my voice. I just thought I could talk to you about other thing again. Like I used to do in the chapel. "

I went to the organ behind her to hid the grin that stretched my face. It hurt a lot but I didn't care. I didn't remember ever smiling like that, my mask was slipping from my face. I sat down and began to play something. She was approaching me slowly.

"It is up to you to decide if you can confide in me and to what extend. I will never refuse to listen to you or help you with anything. I remain your guardian and teacher, Christine. My primary goal is to make you realize how much more you can achieve. You should be the opera Prima Dona."

There was something else, I could see that. A barrier which prevented her to speak her mind. Fear. An angel could sing or scold her at most. A marred human could harm her much more. I am unable to hit her. Even in the middle of a devastating rage, I will collapse Hell over me, leaving a well secured place for her first. But she believed otherwise. She was looking at the scores next to my favorite instrument.

"My angel's voice was always warm and kind. Now you are so distant all the time, I can't stop thinking you are still mad at me. Only your music is gentle now."

I stopped playing.

"Its time for bed, dear. Go, prepare yourself if you want to stay."

Christine moved behind me and soon after that I heard her enter my bedroom. The light coming from there became weaker as she blew the candles inside. If I stood still I could hear her undress, the sound of fabrics being removed from her body. Instead I began to play a quiet canon in eight voices. It somehow remained me of a night

full of stars and empty of humans. That German composer was a great man.

"Angel?"

Christine's voice came from behind the black curtain. She was calling for her angel, but only I was here, and I didn't know how to respond to her previous words. My cold attitude was a necessity not a caprice. She had to stay away from me for I would not risk losing my mask to her again. I almost harmed her then, when I tried to run and hide my face. The terror and the pain unlocked the demon inside and ever since I was fighting to cage it again. I went to the arch between the bedroom and the common room and stopped.

"Christine?"

"When I was little I could hear your voice at night. You were to sing to me and I was getting sleepy in no time."

"I remember."

"You were in the room then, were you not? You could see me?"

It was the golden time of the Angel of Music. I let out a deep sigh and answered the girl.

"Not in the room, but I could see you and the other girls."

"Was that improper?"

The vision of her breasts emerged from the ninth circle of Hell. A pair of wings...

"No. I was your guardian, angel or no angel. You needed me."

The silence stretched longer and I turned to go, already thinking about the dirty dishes left on the table. I had to wash them or in the morning the smell would be everywhere in the cave. A small voice from within rooted me to my place.

"And if I need you now, will you come to me?"

I could move a mountain if she needed it, but did I dare enter that room?

"Angel?"

"I can sing from here, child. You will hear me well enough."

"Please, Angel. I was dreaming about my angel coming to me and holding me... my hand. That was in the cold days in autumn and winter. Don't be angry, Maestro, but its a little cold here. Please, come to me."

She was cold.

I entered the room without a thought and went to the cabinet to the left. I chose a thicker coverlet and pulled it atop the other one wrapping Christine in its warmth.

"This must help."

Her eyes were following me everywhere in the room. I doubted she could see much. On the other hand I was able to distinguish her features perfectly. She was still waiting for me. We waited for something and at some point I gave up.

"You were never easy to convince you to sleep. I have to close outside first."

"I will wait."

I cleaned the table and put the light out as slowly as possible praying Christine to be sleeping when I am finished. Anyway I was not going to play tonight. I would use the space behind the organ as usual when my bed served as a nest for my Christine. I kept a blanket there, it wasn't too uncomfortable. I went to the bedroom to check on Christine and was greeted by her eyes looking expectantly at the arch. I put my wings and white robe on and entered the room.

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Nothing, but stay here."

I didn't have to look for a chair, there was none in the room. I went to the other side of the bed and sat at first, then lay on its edge. I turned to face her and met her arm crawling towards me. She was lying on her front, her face to me. Christine smiled when I took her hand in mine.

"Good night, Angel. Thank you for everything."

"Sleep well, Christine."

And she did. I spent the night listening to the splendid harmony of her breath. I wasn't sure how much of this she would regret in the morning, but being a personal angel to my sweet love, held certain advantages. I pressed my fingers firmly to her hand several times during her sleep and she never withdrew, but squeezed mine in return. My cave had never seemed so peaceful to me before, yet I needed to trust her much more to allow myself to sleep in her presence. She was breathing slowly and deeply I could imagine her breast rising and falling...

A pair of wings, a long white robe...


End file.
